


Amalgamation

by ChrisBranNorling



Series: Guild Wars 2 Stories [21]
Category: Guild Wars 2 (Video Game)
Genre: Blind Character, Christmas, Cisgender Character, Gen, Nonbinary Character, Wintersday, amputee character, child character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-30 10:16:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10874688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChrisBranNorling/pseuds/ChrisBranNorling
Summary: A little surprise when Rancalagen gets back from work.1329 AE





	Amalgamation

Rancalagen blinks. And blinks again. Then a third time for good measure, not really understanding the addition to the space of the main room of his house. It sure is something, no bigger than he, made up of different bits of metal … and tools, lashed together with copious amounts of rope.

Drephan sits in front of it, non-segmented teeth bared in a wide smile. They’re relaxed as they can be, the long vines of their hair twisted into a braid that rests over their shoulder and falls down to their waist. Left arm cast behind them to hold their weight, Eltaam cradled in their right, the progeny’s golden curls stark against Drephan’s dark brown bark.

“I never took the time to pay attention to Wintersday, but I think we’ve been able to make due as is.”

A small pockmarked hand reaches up to tug at a string on Drephan’s shirt. “Decorations?”

The sylvari shifts, picking up something outside of Rancalagen’s view. “Yep! That’s what we went out to pick up earlier.” They let it dangle close enough that Eltaam would be able to feel it. “We should have the tree decorated before Ran comes back.” Drephan lets the item drop into Eltaam’s lap before they tap the progeny’s nose.

Giggling, Eltaam turns in Drephan’s arm, a metallic fish’s skeleton clutched in his grip, but his pale eyes fixate on Rancalagen. “Ran’s here now.”

Gold eyes that still have a touch of hazy blue flash over to where he stands, framed by the doorway. “Oh,” is all Drephan can manage as Eltaam extricates himself from their lap and barrels into Rancalagen’s stomach, the decorative skeleton coming to dig uncomfortably into his side when the progeny attempts to wrap his arms around Rancalagen’s waist.

“S’it only rope?” He asks, hoping very much that there isn’t a speck of glue in that assemblage, or any amount of heat, as he wobbles forward with Eltaam still clinging to him.

Drephan shuffles around to face him, dragging a small bag along with the movement and pulls out the end of a piece of rope from it. “I think I got too much of it, actually.”

Finally reaching the sylvari, Rancalagen plops down in front of them and shrugs off his pack. The chest lands with a heavy thud against the wood. Eltaam flinches away from the sound, and Rancalagen murmurs an apology as he drags it around by a handle, situating it between him and Drephan. The lid pops open with a few taps, and Rancalagen roots around inside it with one hand, the other rubbing Eltaam’s back.

He pulls out a cube, small sections of each face a depression with glass at the bottom, as if there were another cube inside it. Setting it down, he presses a specific pattern on the topmost face, and the cube lights up a brilliant green.

“The trees in Divinity’s Reach’ve got lights on top o’em.” Rancalagen lets the cube stay where it is, but nudges the chest a little with his foot. “An’ I don’ ‘ave any jobs until it’s over. The holiday.”

Drephan’s head tilts at the cube, rocking forward after a moment and resting their left hand at Rancalagen’s side. They lean over him and press a quick kiss to his bald head, their vines resting against Eltaam’s back. Rancalagen thinks he feels a breath of a word against his skin before they pull back.

“There’s supposed to be a light on top of it?” Eltaam gasps, squirming in Rancalagen’s lap until he’s nestled comfortably in the crook of his leg and arm.

“Yeah,” Rancalagen works to support Eltaam with his other hand, then using his left to grasp the long trail of Drephan’s braids, tugging them gently. He can feel them shift even through the leather of his glove, and a shorter vine curls weakly around his last finger.

“The light Ran has is bright green, and is a cube!” Drephan follows the motion to sit beside the two asura, leaning against Rancalagen and running a hand through Eltaam’s curls.


End file.
